The Reason
by PentagonMerlin
Summary: A new, young Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher comes to Hogwarts, one whose past holds some secrets that could condemn her soul mate, as well as the rest of the wizarding world.
1. Dreaming of a Memory

The Reason Rating: PG-13 Summary: A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher comes to Hogwarts, and her past holds some secrets that could condemn her soul mate, as well as the rest of the Wizarding world.  
  
A/N: So, as summer is here, and I'm going to be bored out of my wits if I don't do something, I'm writing this. I may only write it for the summer, or I may write in for longer, depends on where my feelings take me. I've had this story in my head for a long time and I'm finally writing it down. It's rated PG-13 for language and possibly some physical stuff. We'll see where I take it later on, but for now, it's just for safety. Enjoy it, and as always: R&R.  
  
The Reason Ch. 1: Dreaming of a Memory  
  
"I wish I may, I wish I might, I wish this wish come true tonight," Lily Potter whispered, looking up at the night sky. "I wish my son grows to be strong and intelligent. I wish him friends and happiness. I wish he finds his soul mate, just like I've found mine."  
  
Lily looked down from the stars that covered Goddrick's Hollow and into the green eyes of her son. She smiled as he rolled over and laughed as he blew a spit bubble.  
  
"Honey, what's wrong?" James Potter asked, seeing the sadness still lurking behind his wife's eyes.  
  
"Nothing. Everything's fine. We have a beautiful son, and we're going to watch him grow into a happy child and then into a strong and powerful wizard. We'll watch him go to Hogwarts and fall in love, and then get married. He'll have kids of his own and some day he'll stand out under these same stars and discuss their futures with his wife. Everything is absolutely fine."  
  
"Then why are you sad?" he asked as he pulled her to her feet and slowly started dancing with her.  
  
"You've heard the prophecy. What happens if he doesn't get to grow up, if we don't get to see him grow up? I can't stand to not get to see our beautiful little boy grow into a handsome young man."  
  
"Don't worry, Lily. Everything will be absolutely fine."  
  
"Such confidence, James. I love you."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
Silence fell between them, as they slowly danced under the star light, each thinking their own thoughts. On the ground, baby Harry watched them move, looking so much like James did when nothing else mattered.  
  
"I talked to Dumbledore today," James finally told her, breaking the silence. "He thinks Voldemort is planning to strike soon. He said that we should think about going into hiding."  
  
"I know. But let's talk about it tomorrow, ok? For now, the night's too lovely to talk about that disgusting piece of slime."  
  
"Alright. So, how's my big boy doing down there on the..." James started but was cut off mid-sentence by a loud BEEP BEEP BEEP.  
  
'What the hell?' Harry thought. Realizing his alarm clock was going off, he thumped it hard with his fist and reached for his glasses. The sun was shining in his window, left open for summer air to come through. "Why did I set my alarm for 8:30?" he asked Hedwig, the big white owl sitting on top of his dresser. "I was having a good dream too."  
  
Relenquishing all thought of having a lie-in, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and walked over to his closet. He didn't get there before his forehead burst into pain and he fell to the floor, clutching his head.  
  
Six thousand mile away, a girl sat straight up in bed, awoken in the middle of the night. In the upper left corner of her back, her birth mark had started burning, a birth mark that looked uncannily like the Dark mark. 


	2. Sparks

The Reason Chapter 2: Sparks  
  
Elizabeth Riddle sat in the dark kitchen of her New England home. It was just after four in the morning and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep after being woken by her birth mark several hours before. Her thoughts were racing from one thing to another, not being able to stay on one subject for long.  
  
"Liz, what are you doing up?" Mrs. Riddle yawned as she came into the kitchen.  
  
"Couldn't sleep. Dad's up to no good again."  
  
"Oh dear," Mrs. Riddle groaned. "You felt it, didn't you?"  
  
"Mom, why are you attracted to him in the first place? He's everything you're not: evil, dark... Ok, basically evil, but still," Liz asked, smiling at the end.  
  
"Lizzy, darling, your father is my soul mate, even if he is considered to be the "Dark Lord." You have to understand, when I met him, I was young, and he was trying, well, not trying per say, but he couldn't act badly around me. You've seen him when he's around here, he changes."  
  
"Mom, he left when I was a baby. And then he shows up again, 13 years later, and you just accept him again. I don't care if he's your "soul mate" or just some guy you happened to fall in love with as a naïve young woman. Look, Mom, you're a medicine woman, a healer, a shaman to a freaking tribe. People respect you, they look to you for advice, and you give amazing advice. But while you try to save lives, he kills. He kills without even thinking about it. So fine, you had a kid with him, personally I'm glad you did, but then he left. He LEFT you to raise a baby alone. Now he comes back and is involving me in his evil deeds. You raised me not to use my magic for evil. You're my mother, do something, protect me, because I have no qualms with hurting him before he hurts me," Liz's green eyes reflected in the moonlight streaming through the window, reminding Mrs. Riddle of her husband's eyes when she had met him. "Look, Mom," Liz said, her voice softening, "please, just don't let him use me."  
  
Mrs. Riddle sat there for a moment thinking. Around his family, Tom Riddle went back to being Tom Riddle, and not the sadistic Lord Voldemort. He had never been anything but kind to her, but with or without the intention to do so, he had passed on strong magic to his daughter. Magic that was strong enough that at the age of fifteen, she had not only completed any training that an elite group of witches, wizards, shamans, medicine women, and other magical people had issued, but she had also learnt how to counteract many dark magics, as well as do them when necessary. Mrs. Riddle could only assume that this information had been passed down from Liz's father, as she knew no one had taught her. She wouldn't need to go to a wizarding school, but that was where she had to go.  
  
"Alright. There's one wizard Tom wouldn't dare mess with. He won't be happy that I'm sending you to him, but if it's what you want."  
  
"Mom, who is this guy?"  
  
"Albus Dumbeldore," and with that Mrs. Riddle turned on her heal and walked out of the room.  
  
That had been two weeks ago. Now, after one long airplane ride across the Atlantic Ocean, and a cab ride through Muggle London, Elizabeth Adeline Riddle was walking through Diagon Alley, headed towards Ollivander's to get a new wand. The last one she had had was her Grandmother's, and had never worked completely right for her. When Dumbledore had agreed to let her come, Mrs. Riddle had decided that Liz needed a new wand.  
  
"Good morning, how may I-"a cheery old man started when she walked into the shop. "Ah, yes, Ms. Riddle. What a surprise. I hope you find us in, how would you put it, good spirits."  
  
"Um, yes, I'm fine. I'm looking for a wand though. You're worried that I'm like my father," Liz stated, noticing how the man had quickly become a bit fleety.  
  
"No, no... Yes. However, children are often nothing like their parents. Your grandmother came in here, oh, about 70 years ago. She turned into an extremely friendly person; I was very upset to see her go. Let's see, she had 13 inch mahogany vela hair core. A very fine wand, one of the first my son put together. If I'm correct you've been using it up until late?" when he saw her nod, he continued, "However that doesn't seem like the right type of wand for you. Let's see try this, 11 inch mahogany with three mermaid scales."  
  
"Mermaid scales?" Liz asked. Seeing him nod, she prayed it was none of the mermaids she knew (some of her teachers,) and flicked the wand. Despite the fact that she had said no charm, the glass on the window broke.  
  
"Well, I see not. Now, let's see... Ah yes, perhaps, 10 inch mahogany with a unicorn hair."  
  
"Just flick it? What if another window breaks?" Liz questioned. She hadn't been this apprehensive of magic in years. Seeing him shrug however, she flicked the wand and the cash register flew open, all of the money flying out. "Oops!" Liz quickly muttered a charm without the wand, something much harder to do, and all the money returned itself to the register.  
  
"Well, now, that is something, isn't it? Recently, a certain phoenix gave another feather, just the third it has ever given. Your father has one of the wands, and he showed extreme promise. Perhaps... 15 inch walnut with a phoenix core."  
  
No sooner had Liz taken the wand then the air around her filled with butterflies, all streaming out of the tip of the wand in her hand. She couldn't help but let out a small giggle.  
  
"Well then. I think we've found the perfect wand. I swear, that is peculiar."  
  
"What's peculiar, Mr. Alivander?"  
  
"Oh, nothing dear. Do me a favor though. Don't get in as much trouble as your father; we don't need another one of him on the loose."  
  
"No, we most certainly don't. So how much?"  
  
Her new wand in her pocket, Liz set off to go pick up all of the books and other random items she may need for her next year. As she was walking, her eyes caught hold of a teenager, his black hair mussed. Despite the fact that he seemed to be occupied talking to some friends, he looked up, his green eyes catching on hers. Not able to stop herself, she stood still, her eyes locked with his, until something the brown haired girl next to him said ripped his eyes away. She had a strange feeling of familiarity she felt with the boy, and yet she didn't even know his name.  
  
A small hissing sound caught her attention though, and she quickly looked down. "Is it safe to come out yet?" Locke hissed from his hiding place, his head lightly peaking out of her bag.  
  
"Locke," she hissed back. "I thought I left you back in the hotel room!" Liz Riddle was a parsel mouth, something that only her mother knew. She had inherited the ability from her father and because of this had kept snakes since she was a little girl.  
  
Locke was a small boom slang snake, an extremely poisonous snake that Liz had found when he was a baby. His mother and all his hatch-mates had been recently killed when she wandered across the destroyed nest. They had made fast friends and Liz had named him after the philosopher she was studying in 6th grade government. Despite the fact that his poison could easily kill a human, Locke was too fond of them, and preferred to see them alive.  
  
"It was boring. You're more fun to be around then a mirror that just screams when it sees a snake."  
  
"Fine, you can stay, but hide. Most people don't like the sight of snakes."  
  
"They're wizards. They don't care."  
  
"Hide," she hissed back at him as she smiled sweetly at the owner of the book store and looked around for the books she needed.  
  
Ron and Hermione had been arguing about where to go for lunch when the strange girl caught Harry's eye. Not able to help himself, he stared back into her eyes, finding her strangely familiar. He knew he had never met her before, or even seen her, but there was something hauntingly familiar about her, something he couldn't shake, and the few seconds he spent looking into her eyes were bliss, and seemed to last an eternity.  
  
"Harry, Harry! Are you feeling okay?" Hermione asked, forcing him to pull his eyes away from the mystery girl.  
  
"Yeah, I'm feeling fine, why do ask?" Harry responded, looking back towards where the girl had been.  
  
"You just looked really dazed," Ron said, looking from Harry to where he was staring and back to Harry again. "What were you looking at?"  
  
"Just some girl. What did you want?" Harry questioned, regaining his focus.  
  
"Ice cream ok for lunch?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Ok, so that is the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter people actually meet, and we find out what Liz is doing at Hogwarts, since she already has a full education. I must say, that's been the hardest thing to skirt around. As with any fic: Read and Review. 


	3. Amazement

Ok, Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you the third chapter of the Reason. Don't expect to know why it's called that yet, cause I still don't know. Anyway, at this point, the rating could very easily be PG, maybe a harsh G, but hopefully the rating will make sense in future chapters. I hope you like it.  
  
THE REASON CH 3: Amazement  
  
September the first was a surprisingly sunny day for London, England. The sun was shining brightly through the window of the room in the Leaky Tavern where Liz was staying and as she put her contacts in, the world outside came into focus.  
  
There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sun beat down onto the people already hustling about, trying to get to wherever they were going. Liz had missed sunshine since she had left her Connecticut home a week before, and she was glad to get some. The chilly fall air hit her as she apparated to an alley by King Cross station, and she remembered passing the test over a year before.  
  
It had been a day similar to this one, and the American Ministry of Magic had decided that as she had already passed all of her tests, the CROWS and the LIONS, the American versions of the NEWTS and OWLS, she should be considered an adult wizard, even at the age of 14. She had to admit, it hadn't been easy, going to both a Muggle school and being taught by tutors in the art of magic. It was why she had rushed through her training. Early on she decided to get through as soon as possible, so she'd be able to take as little stress as possible as a teenager.  
  
Realizing she had been lost in the thrill of the memory, she snapped back into the real world and headed into the train station. Her ticket said to go to Platform 9 ¾ but there didn't appear to be a platform by that number. There was only a Platform 9 and a Platform 10. Liz looked back down at her ticket and then back up at the signs.  
  
"What have I gotten myself into?" she thought, trying to keep from panicking. Looking around, she saw a silver headed boy with a tawny owl. What Muggle in their right mind would have an owl in a train station? "Excuse me," Liz said walking over. "I'm a bit lost."  
  
"So, what's it to me?" the boy replied in a tart British accent. "Ask an attendant."  
  
"Well, see, I don't think they'd know where it is. But perhaps you would, seeing as you're a wizard and all..." Liz trailed off.  
  
"Aren't you a bit old to be going to Hogwarts for the first time?" the boy asked, giving her an odd look.  
  
"I'm transferring. I'm an American."  
  
"Like I couldn't tell from your bloody accent," the boy snapped. "Oh, well. You walk straight at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. My name's Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy." The way he said his name, it made it sound like she should fan over him, that he was royalty or something.  
  
"Liz Riddle. Thank you very much for your help... Draco," Liz said. She then turned her cart and walked towards the barrier, almost expecting to hit something solid. Instead, it gave way, as if she were walking through a wall of dry water, and before her eyes lay the Hogwarts Express: a long, gleaming red train with children of all ages milling around it, waiting for it to leave and saying good bye to parents. Liz, however, had said good bye to her mother back in Connecticut and didn't want to waste time, as knowing her luck she'd miss the train all together.  
  
Lugging her trunk up the stairs, she was amazed at the décor in the train. You see, Americans don't often take trains, and this was Liz's first time on one. Finding an empty compartment, she squeezed in and lifted her trunk over her head to store on one of the over head racks. Then, she sat down in a seat and took out the letter she had received, to look at it once more.  
  
Dr. Ms. Riddle; It has come to our attention that you wish to seek asylum at our school, yet you will not be able to attend as a student due to your status as being a fully trained witch. Based on the circumstances of need, we will kindly extend a hand of hospitality towards you.  
  
We have also been informed that you are well equipped in your abilities in both the Dark Arts and the Defense of the aforementioned subject. Because at this time we are missing a teacher in that subject, we are offering it to you.  
  
Please report to Platform 9 ¾ of the King's Cross Station in London, England on September the first and catch a ride on the Hogwarts Express. Then, please report to my office as soon as you reach the school for further instruction.  
  
We look forward to seeing you. Sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore  
Headmaster of Hogwarts  
  
So here Liz sat, on the train, trying not to have a panic attack. "What if they don't like me?" she asked Locke.  
  
"They're teenagers, students. They don't like any of their teachers," he hissed back at her.  
  
"That's real comforting, Locke. Thanks a lot."  
  
"You liked some of your teachers. They'll like you."  
  
"Nice backpedaling. What if it happens again, though?"  
  
"That's why you have your medication. And me. If you get too out of hand, I promise to bite you."  
  
"Real funny. Truth is, I'm gonna forget everything I know when I get up in front of a class, and they won't think I'm qualified as it is. I'm younger then at least a hundred of them."  
  
"You're almost 16. You will survive. If anything, they'll be able to connect to you better. Now shush. Someone's coming and I don't think you want them to know you're a parsel mouth right off the bat."  
  
Sure enough, the door was sliding open. Locke slid back into her bag and Liz looked up from the letter.  
  
"Hi. Do you mind if we join you in here?" asked a red headed boy.  
  
"No, not at all," she replied, taking a good look at him. He was lanky, with long red hair and brown eyes. Behind him walked a pretty girl with wavy brown hair and brown eyes, about 5'7" and creamy white skin. As the two of them stowed their trunks, another boy walked in, the boy from Diagon Alley to be exact. Close up, his emerald eyes were even more stunning, even if they were hiding behind big, black, circular glasses. Messy black hair covered his head, and a tall, well built body lay beneath it.  
  
"I'm Ron Weasley," the red head said, "this is Hermione Granger, and the prat who can't stop staring at you is Harry Potter."  
  
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Liz," she said. Harry looked relieved that that she wasn't gaping, for some odd reason, and Hermione looked curious.  
  
"Do you have a last name, or are all of you Americans like Cher and only have a first name?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, Riddle. Liz Riddle," Liz corrected, getting really nervous.  
  
"Riddle. Any relation to Tom Riddle?" Harry asked, looking at her with worry.  
  
"Yeah, but it's a common name. I doubt we're talking about the same one," Liz said, knowing full well that they probably were talking about the same one. Her father's name was Tom, and he was British. He had gone to Hogwarts over 50 years ago, her parents had an age difference of over 20 years, but if they loved each other... He was also one of the most feared wizards in the world, and if they knew his real name, they had every reason to be cautious.  
  
"Probably not," Hermione said quickly, seeing the tension mounting in her friends' eyes. "I've never seen you before. Where are you from?" she asked, trying to divert their minds.  
  
"Um, America. Connecticut to be exact," Liz replied, flipping her wand around her thumb.  
  
"Did you go to the American school, what's it called, Rockwall?" Ron asked.  
  
"No. I was home schooled. I went to a Muggle school as well, so it just seemed to make sense," Liz lied. The truth was she hadn't been allowed to go to The Rockwall Academy for Magic. Partly because of whom her father was, and partly because of what was going on in her life at the time, they didn't want to accept her.  
  
"How old are you?" Harry asked, looking back in from the window.  
  
"16," Ginny said as she walked in, getting a look from Ron, Hermione and Harry. "Right?"  
  
"15. I'll be 16 next month. How'd you know?" Liz responded.  
  
"I heard my parents talking. They said we were getting a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. A 16 year old one from America. I put the pieces together. Ginny Weasley."  
  
"Liz Riddle."  
  
"Nice to meet you. Let's hope you're better then last years teacher," Ginny said, shocking Liz.  
  
"Why, was he bad?" Liz asked.  
  
"Let's put it this way. We have problems keeping Defense Against the Dark Art teachers for more then a year. First year, the guy was a supporter of Voldemort. Second year, the man was a dolt who knew nothing and wiped his own memory. Third year was the best, but the guy was a werewolf and parents weren't too happy about that. Fourth year the teacher was using a polyjuice potion to pretend he was who he wasn't and then last year, the woman was a bitch who no one liked. Here's wishing you luck that you'll last longer then a year," Harry informed her, raising his hand as if it contained a glass.  
  
"I wish someone had warned me before I took the position," Liz said shortly.  
  
"Well you must be really talented if you got the position this young," Harry said, hissing from talented on as Locke had slithered out of Liz's bag and was sitting on her lap.  
  
"Oh, um, Harry's a parsel mouth," Hermione said stating the obvious.  
  
"So I figured. I'm sorry, Locke doesn't really like sitting still," Liz said, speaking parsel tongue for the last part. She watched jaws drop around the compartment.  
  
"Well, at least I won't be the only freak around," Harry muttered.  
  
"Something tells me that people don't look at you as a freak," Liz said, smiling.  
  
"And besides, mate, we're all freaks in one way or another!" Ron cheered merrily.  
  
"Yes you are," Draco said, standing in the doorway. "You know, love, if you want to be popular, you shouldn't hang out with these blokes."  
  
"Well then, it's a good thing I don't think she cares about being popular," Ginny growled at him.  
  
"I'm serious. Hanging out with a bunch of blood traitors, mudbloods, and, well Potty Potter here will only make you enemies."  
  
"I think I can handle myself, Draco, was it?" Liz said, staring him straight in the eye.  
  
"Well, if you're looking for decent friends, come see me," Draco said walking out.  
  
"I think he just wanted to fuck you mate," Ron said, looking at the form of the new teacher. Without realizing it, all three girls burst out laughing.  
  
Harry couldn't help but look her up and down. She had chocolate brown hair and her green eyes seemed to keep changing shades. She had rosy cheeks, but otherwise her skin was pale ivory, and she really was pretty. He couldn't blame Draco for thinking inappropriate thoughts about her.  
  
"What is it with girls, that they have to giggle at everything?" Ron moaned.  
  
"It makes us happy!" Liz said, smiling at her new friends. At least she had someone who liked her.  
  
The five of them spent the next few hours talking and playing games of exploding snap and chess, as random people they other 4 knew from previous years came to stick their heads in and say hello. Before she knew it, the train was pulling into the station at Hogsmead, and Liz was departing to go get instructions for the following year from the headmaster.  
  
Wow, that was fun. I'll try and get another chapter up by the end of the week. Please review. I think I have two, and I really would like to know how I'm doing. 


	4. Meeting the Boss

Ok, another chapter of my summer project. Kylie, thanks for the notes, I went back and changed any mistakes I made, except for the shock thing. You'll find out why I did that in a few chapters, as well as some flaws that the people have. I promise, none of the people in here are perfect, no matter what they think (Draco.) Also, I know that I'm really not having any of Harry's points of views, I may or may not in the next few chapters, but I find Liz is a whole lot more willing to share her views as she's my character. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, I'll try and update again soon. Please Review. -Pentagon Merlin  
  
The Reason CH 4: Meeting the Boss  
  
"Are you Liz Riddle?" a tight lipped woman asked as Liz stepped off the train. Seeing her nod, the woman added, "My name is Minerva McGonagall. I'm the headmistress and transfiguration teacher here. Please come with me."  
  
Liz followed the woman into a horseless carriage that took them up to the giant castle. She couldn't help but stare in awe. It was huge; daunting and huge. Professor McGonagall (a/n: I don't have the heart to call her Minerva just yet) got out of the carriage and walked briskly up the steps and into an immense entrance hall, into which Liz's entire house could easily have fit. From there, they took several stair cases, and several halls that Liz knew would be hard to remember later and ended at the base of a large gargoyle statue.  
  
"Ding- dongs," Professor McGonagall said plainly. As the gargoyle began to move aside, she turned to Liz, "Professor Dumbledore is very fond of Muggle sweets. Please, don't be alarmed."  
  
"I'm sure that by now that's impossible," Liz said, speaking for the first time since she had met the Professor. As they stepped aboard the moving staircase which reminded Liz of an escalator, Liz added, "Besides, the brilliant ones do seem to be a bit mad. It's just a consequence of being smart."  
  
"Why, it would seem you were right, Ms. Riddle," a tall man said as he opened the door. As far as she could tell, he had to be at least 70, with wrinkles that had wrinkles, long white hair, and a beautiful long white beard. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore. It is my honor to welcome you to Hogwarts. Please, come in."  
  
"Thank you, sir. Actually, thank you for inviting me to teach here. I know my mom told you why I needed to come here, but I'm not sure if she told you everything," Liz stated.  
  
"We all have secrets, and the right to them. I am aware that you have had certain..." he paused as if looking for the right word, "problems in your past, but I hope that is all behind you and that this will be a nourishing environment. As for why you're here, wizards meaning good in this world will always be welcomed within these walls. You are safe here from your father's reaches, as long as you are interested. I promise you that, Elizabeth."  
  
"Actually, it's Liz. Um, sir, you are aware that you offered a job to a 15 year old, right?" Liz asked.  
  
"Yes. I talked to your teachers. They seemed fully confident in your abilities, as well as you as a person. Besides, you will be 16 soon, so really I'm hiring a 16 year old. Now, let's see, there were several reasons I asked to see you in here. Of course, you will be required to teach classes and patrol the halls, as a teacher that is the general responsibilities that are placed on you. However I do have another request. There is a boy here who, for because of certain reasons, needs to be trained a bit more, how would you put this, diligently in the protection of oneself from the dark arts. I don't know what your feelings are towards your father, but he seems hell bent on wanting this young boy dead, and as this boy has inherited a knack for attracting trouble, I am requesting that you help him. He's been taught by others, but perhaps as you're more his age he'd be more willing to listen to you," Dubledore finished.  
  
"Of course I can help. I'm willing to do anything possible to keep my father from hurting anyone," Liz said.  
  
"Good, good. Also, after a long conversation with your mother, I've decided it may be best to house you with children your own age for at least a little while. I was thinking of putting you with the sixth year girls in one of the houses and letting you see through sixth and seventh year with them, and then moving into your own room. It will allow you to socialize more with children your own age, something you need. Are you alright with this?" seeing her nod, he continued, "Alright then. How we select which houses the first years are in is by putting this hat," he picked the sorting hat off one of the shelves," on top of their heads and letting it decide. We normally do this in a ceremony that will be starting soon, but as this is a special circumstance, I thought we'd do it in here. So if you will just stick it on top of your head, we'll let it decide."  
  
"Well, well, well, I was wondering when you'd be showing up. Granted, I thought it would be years ago, but now is just as good," a voice within her head said.  
  
"Ah, an enchanted talking wizard's cap. How quaint," Liz thought.  
  
"Well, no need to be rude. Granted I should have expected it from your family, but what do we have here. Well, this is a first, a Slytherin who might do well elsewhere. Let's see, you're brilliant, loyal, you'd do well in either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but I don't think those are the best places for you. You have potential and could go far, but you may be too brave and daring. You're standing up to your family just being here. No, you wouldn't like any of those. Alright, let's put you in Gryffindor. If anything, you'll make excellent friends," it finished. "Gryffindor, Dumbledore," it said allowed.  
  
"Well, now isn't that a surprise. However, we really must get going. The feast will be starting soon, and you do need to be introduced to the rest of the school. The password into the Gryffindor quarters is Boomerang for the moment. Go with the rest of the Gryffindors at the end of the feast and up to the 6th year's girl dormitory. Now, your office and classroom is down that hall and to the right. The password to your office is Bush, I thought it was appropriate, and only you are allowed to change it, from here until the time you leave us, hopefully that won't be soon. Now, here we have the Great Hall. This is where all the meals are served. The teacher's lounge is up that staircase and to the left. Now, if you'll come with me," Dumbledore said, leading her down between two long tables of students and up to the head table, pointing out a spot for her to sit. With that, the sorting of the first years commenced.  
  
It went from Albert, Rob (Ravenclaw) to Tree, Lilia (Slytherin) to Washinkaw, Mark (Gryffindor.) As Mark went and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors, Dumbledore stood up. "I shall make this short as I'm sure we're all anxious to get to our good feat. I mean feast. So, a few announcements: first, as fun as Weasley's Wizard Weases are, the following items from their shop have been added to Mr. Filches' list of restricted items: portable swamps, canary creams, and doom and gloom clouds. While the rest of the items are allowed, it is requested that you use discretion. Secondly, because of Voldemort's return, we strongly encourage you to stay inside after dark, although I assure you, you are perfectly safe while on Hogwarts' grounds. Third, for all first years, and a reminder to the rest of you, the forest on the edge of the property is strictly off limits, unless you are with a teacher. And speaking of teachers, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has been taken up by Liz Riddle. If you would please stand, thank you dear," as he said this, the few people who had been whispering among themselves went dead silent, and mouths dropped open all over the great hall. A pin could be heard dropping, if someone was so inclined to drop one.  
  
"Right, yes, good," Professor Dumbledore muttered. "Now, I'm sure that all of those open mouths are desperately awaiting food, so I guess with a final word, the feast shall begin. Supercalafragalisticexpealodocious." Liz couldn't help but stifle a giggle at the headmaster's last word, but with that, piles upon piles of food appeared on all the plates, and her giggle was quickly replaced by a growl of hunger from her stomach, and she quickly dug in.  
  
Alright, cheers. That's the fourth chapter. I'm sorry if you see it as short, but hopefully I'll update again soon and maybe with a longer chapter. The rain here is putting me in the mood for writing. Thank you to all you lovely people who have reviewed, I only wish there were more of you to thank. If you haven't figured out what that means, review. 


	5. The First Day

_Ok, so I've finally decided to update. I'm sorry it's taken so long, but what with Father's Day, and my friends actually calling me and stuff, I haven't had time. I have camp next week too, which could cut back on my writing, but I should update at least once before then, and I'll try and update during then anyway. In other news: I've got this handy dandy little book written by JK Rowling about different magical species, and I need to put together a bit of a curriculum for the class in general to be taught. If those of you who are reading this could review me with different ideas of magical species or spell stuff or whatever, I would greatly appreciate it. Cheers, and as always, read and review! Oh, and before I forget, the italisided stuff inside the chapter is parseltongue. I've decided to change it now, in CH 5. Go figure._

_-Pentagon Merlin_

* * *

The Reason

Ch. 5: The First Day  
  
"So I've got Defense against the Dark Arts this morning, followed by Charms. Damn, I have double Potions this afternoon. How about you?" Harry asked. He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the breakfast table eating toast with jam and bacon. It was their first day of 6th year and their schedules had just been passed out.  
  
"I have the same. I've decided to drop arithmacy this year. It was just too much work," Hermione stated crisply.  
  
"You still have twice as many classes as we do. I can't believe you decided to continue taking Potions. I couldn't wait to get away from Snape," Ron mumbled through a mouth full of toast.  
  
"Really, Ron, you should swallow before you talk. Any good job you have to take Potions for, you know that," Hermione said.  
  
"Stop acting like my mother," Ron grumbled, swallowing his toast. "You can get plenty of good jobs without Potions."  
  
"Yes, but none of them are aurors," Harry grumbled, looking at the rest of the schedule for the week. It was a blur of classes, from Transfiguration to Charms to Potions to Defense against the Dark Arts. The one class he had that could even be considered a little fun was Care of Magical Creatures, on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. "Are you two still taking Care of Magical Creatures?"  
  
"Of course," Ron mumbled, his mouth full of toast again, gaining him a scowl from Hermione. "It's the good class. At least we don't have to take Divination anymore."  
  
"I don't know why you insisted on taking it anyway. It's useless," Hermione said.  
  
"Well it isn't as useless as taking Muggle studies when you're Muggle born," Ron argued.  
  
"I told you, I find it fascinating how wizards look at Muggles!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She had told him at least a dozen times.  
  
"I hate to interrupt your argument, but I think I have an extra class on here," Harry said, looking at his schedule. Sure enough, on Wednesdays and Fridays, right after dinner, he had an extra lesson, one that simply said, "See Professor Riddle."  
  
"I'm sure Dumbledore has his reason for it," Hermione reasoned.  
  
"Yeah, but it is weird, isn't it? Why would Harry have extra lessons with Professor Riddle?" Ron said.  
  
"Well, maybe you could ask her after class today?" Hermione said.  
  
"Or he could ask her right now," Ron pointed. Standing behind the teachers table, where at the moment no one else was, was Liz Riddle, looking utterly confuddled. (A/N: It's my own word, deal with it.)  
  
Not able to help himself, Harry let loose a smile. Then, he stood and waved her over.

* * *

Liz stood behind the head table, unsure if she should sit down. If she did, she would be by herself, and eating alone was never fun. However, going and sitting down with some of the other students would seem like it was intruding. Even if she was their age, she was still their teacher, and she knew from experience that a teacher hanging around could ruin the fun.  
  
Her problems were solved, however, when she saw Harry stand up from the Gryffindor table and wave her over. As little as he was able to keep himself from smiling, she couldn't help it herself.  
  
"Want to sit with us?" he asked as she walked over.  
  
"Sure. You know, this seating arrangement reminds me of elementary school, where they make you sit with your class, whether you like the people or not," Liz stated simply.  
  
"I never thought of it like that before, but I think you're right," Hermione smiled. She had been surprised to see Liz in the room last night, but now, she was beginning to think that the girl could be an amazing friend, as well as a talented teacher.  
  
"So, you're not going to show up in any of our classes today, are you?" Harry joked, Hermione having told him that Liz was bunking in the same dorms.  
  
"Nope, only the one I'm teaching you guys," Liz paused for a second. "That just sounds weird, teaching people my own age."  
  
"It's about time we got a teacher who could relate to us," Ron said.  
  
"They're all so... tight. I'm assuming you've met Snape," Harry said.  
  
"And they're rather old. This place is dim," Liz stated.  
  
"Hey, she's already talking like us," Dean said coming up behind. "I thought I'd best introduce myself. I'm Dean Thomas. Anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask," he finished in a slick manor.  
  
"Just curious, do students usually flirt with teachers?" Liz asked, giving Dean a look she had used on boys countless times before. Her curvy figure had seemed to attract far more guys then she would have liked.  
  
"Impressive," Harry said as Dean backed away, taking the hint. "I have a question for you, though. On my schedule it says to come see you two nights a week. Do you know what that's about?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, Professor Dumbledore said that you get into trouble a lot and for me to help you learn things to protect yourself," Liz informed him as she finished her toast. "Thanks for letting me sit with you." With that, she got up and left the hall.  
  
"Why just Harry?" Ron asked as soon as she had disappeared.  
  
"I don't know, it probably has something to do with the prophecy. We'd better get to class," Hermione said as she collected her bags. The boys quickly followed her out.

* * *

_"You're going to do fine,"_ Locke hissed from where he was curled up on Liz's desk.  
  
_"Oh, god, there are students in the class room. What am I going to do?"_ Liz hissed back, peaking out from her office door.  
  
_"You will go out there, and you will stick to the lesson plan you came up with, and they will love you,"_ Locke hissed, sounding bored. He had, after all, told her this exact same thing about a hundred times in the past week.  
  
_"Oh, shove it, or I'll sick Nagini on you,"_ Liz threatened. Her father's giant snake and Locke had met only once and it was clear they didn't get along.  
  
_"Oh be good, or I will bite you,"_ Locke threatened back. They both knew he would do no such thing. She was the hand that fed him after all, and it was ill advised to bite that.  
  
_"Ok, ok. I will go out there, stick to my lesson plan, and they will love me. How do I look?"  
_  
"_Beautiful, but I thought the party girl image was behind you,"_ seeing her eyes widen, he quickly added, _"kidding."  
_  
_"I'd say bite me, but..."_ and with that, she walked out the door, and into the classroom of loud 16 year olds, 16 year olds who went quiet as soon as they saw her. "Damn, you've already been scared into submission. There goes my lesson plan today," she said to a few laughs. "Ok, not so funny. I've talked to your previous teachers. You all seem to have a decent grasp on curses, magical creatures, and far too much book work for my liking, so today we'll be going over magical symbols and signs, two branches of the same tree, I guess you could say. Please take out your book and turn to page 347. Good. Now, these are signs that Dark Wizards have used as their trademarks throughout the ages. For some reason, they seem to be into snakes, skulls, and spiders. No, they aren't all parsel mouths, and being one isn't necessarily a bad thing. Also, some are, or were, really afraid of spiders," Liz held back a laugh of thinking about how her father had come across a spider in the garage the summer before and nearly had a heart attack. The man who had killed so many people had to have his wife come and kill the spider for him. "Now, they do all have skulls, however, I'm pretty certain that most good wizards have skulls too, so we're out of luck when it comes to figuring out why they use skulls. Theodore the Mad as he's now called was a powerful dark wizard back in the 1700's. His symbol was a globe with a hand inside. This follows none of the standard rules as to what Dark symbols tend to be and when his ghost was asked why he chose the symbol, he said it was because he was sick of skulls, snakes, and spiders. So, now turn to page 392..."

* * *

45 minutes later found Professor Liz Riddle standing on a table in the front of the room trying to reach the top parts of the board to write more information in the only blank space available, the top where her 5'5" figure couldn't reach. Much to her delight, no one in the class had fallen asleep yet and they were all sitting in rapt attention. Whenever she asked a question of the class, at least a half dozen hands shot up, and for whatever reason, be it that they were truly interested in the subject, or she simply had a ton of energy, Liz couldn't help but be enthused on the subject.  
  
"Ok, the next dark arts symbol is curse scars. Yes, I know, the person who has them isn't necessarily evil, often times they just fell into a situation where dark arts was being done and they, the uncontrollable victim is left with a nasty scar. Normally," Liz said, jumping down from the table, "the scar is just that, a scar, nothing more, nothing less. They tend to take interesting shapes, such as lightning bolts or tear drops," she told them, pointing to her right hand where a tear drop lingered right underneath the first knuckle on her pointer finger. "I got this a few months ago when an ex-boyfriend decided that the reason he couldn't get any dates was because I had cursed him, and not because I had decided to tell all the girls in our grade what a manipulating son of a bitch he was.  
  
"Anyway, like I said, normally curse scars are just that, scars and nothing else. However, sometimes they become more, a way to link the victim and the person who issued the curse. This is called a linking curse scar, and they're very rare. These scars can tell the people involved what the other person is feeling, what's going on in their lives, things like that," she reached over and tapped on Harry's forehead. By this point, she was roaming the isles and had come to him, despite the fact that he was sitting in the back. "These occurrences usually occur when one person is feeling a certain emotion strongly, for instance they're feeling hate to the point where they kill a person, or ecstasy during sex, or even during a first kiss, which I'm told is an interesting thing to experience when it's your enemy doing the kissing. These linking scars are usually caused by a very powerful curse, such as one of the unforgivable ones."  
  
As Liz turned around to walk back up to the front of the classroom, the bell rang. "All right, ladies and gentleman," she said, sitting down on the table, "your homework is to find a magical symbol and tell me what it is, draw it, and who's used it. You are not allowed to use the current Dark Mark, but be creative. This shouldn't take you long. Next time we will be going over accidental marks and such." She had decided that keeping who she was, and the mark on her back, a secret just wouldn't work. They had to whose child she was in order to believe anything she told them when the truth finally came out. It had to be on her own terms, and the decision she had been wrestling with since she found out about the job was decided. It had taken her a little over a month to decide, but after meeting her students, she knew it was necessary. She'd be part of the next lesson.  
  
_"You did well,"_ Locke hissed as he slithered up her outer robe. _"You're going to tell them aren't you? I know that look."  
_  
_"It's the only way,"_ she hissed back, looking up to see there was one student still left in the room.  
  
_"Tell us what?"_ Harry hissed, seeming unable to control the fact he was talking in parsel mouth.  
  
_"You'll find out later. I do know what we're going to work on though, getting you to be able to talk in English when a snake is around. It's a life skill."  
_  
_"Fine, don't tell me. He's right though, you did do well. You're a good teacher,"_ with that, Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and walked to the door where his friends were waiting. Only by the look on their faces was he able to tell that the brief conversation he'd just had took place entirely in the language of snakes.  
  
_"You should tell him first,"_ Locke stated._ "He is your father's enemy."_  
  
_"That's what I'm worried about. More then anyone else, I want him to like me. How'd you know what I was thinking?"  
_  
_"I know you. You raised me. I also know that out of all your other boyfriends, you've never cared if any of them cared about you or not, and he's not even your boyfriend."_  
  
_"I'm changing. Who knows, maybe I'll find someone that is to me whatever Dad is to Mom."  
_  
_"Good luck with that. Now, do you have any mice? I'm hungry."  
_

* * *

_Allrighty then. I hope you all liked it. Like I said before, I'll try to update soon, but my life is kind of hectic, for once. Please do me a favor and review, plus answer my question, because I need help. Gratsi._


	6. Private Lessons

_So,. I know I said I'd get this out a few days ago, but my life has become hectic and I'm writing this as I'm about to fall asleep. Anyway, thank you to the few people who have reviewed me, but Aya, I think you're going to have to wait in line, because there are a lot of people who are in love with Harry/Daniel. So anyway, this chapter shows a different side of a certain character, which I think is probably a good thing. Anyway, I hope you like it, I'll try to update by the end of the week, but I have Chef Camp (I know, slightly dorky) so don't count on it. Anyway, cheers! _

_-Pentagon Merlin  
_

* * *

**The Reason **

**CH 6: Private Lessons  
**  
It was Wednesday evening and Liz was just beginning to get settled. As she pulled the final book from her trunk she grinned as she saw the title: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Even if it wasn't a book on Dark Arts or the defense of the subject, it was still a must have for anyone, she thought. It was her favorite book, and the copy she held in her hands was so tattered it was almost falling apart.  
  
"Ender's Game, what is that, some type of plan by a crazy dark wizard?" Harry asked from the doorway.  
  
"You're telling me that you grew up in a muggle home and you've never read Ender's Game?" she asked from where she stood, without even looking up to see who it was.  
  
"I never told you I grew up in a muggle home."  
  
"No, no you didn't. The only connection I had to my father when I was a kid was his diaries and his notebooks, as well as letters that people had sent to him over the years, people who didn't know he was gone. There was one that was written to him shortly after his disappearance informing him that you had been sent to live with your aunt and uncle, muggles," Liz said as she sat down.  
  
"After he disappeared? What, is your father Voldemort or something?" Harry mumbled as he sat down across from her.  
  
"No, my father is not Voldemort. My father is Tom Riddle, whose insane alter ego happens to be Lord Voldemort," she told him, making Harry quickly stand up and back away from her, a frightened look on his face. "Harry wait, I need to explain," as she saw him still walking, she picked up her wand and said Portrificus Totalus. I'm sorry, but I need to explain this, and I think you deserve to be told first, based on your relations with him. As you don't seem to be able to stay here, I'll un-freeze you when I'm done.  
  
"Almost 45 years ago, Albus Dumbledore took a little girl from a purebred family here in England and sent her to a tribe of Native Americans in the US because of a prophecy he had heard. She was adopted by the chief there and when she was a kid began training to be a medicine woman. When she was 18, she moved to New York City, that was about 25 years ago. About the same time, Lord Voldemort went to America because of rumors of a goblin there that could help him become immortal. While he was there, he was hit by a car and forgot who he was, or at least the Voldemort part of it. All he remembered was being Tom Riddle, and he was taken in by a medicine woman/shaman. Before he regained his memory, he fell in love with her, and her with him, despite the age difference. Even when he remembered who he was, he remained Tom Riddle when he was around her. About 5 years after they had met, they got married and a few months before he disappeared, thanks to you, they had a daughter, me. Then, 2 years ago when he came back, he returned to the states, to see what was up with his family. His wife never re-married, and his daughter was there, perfect for becoming a death eater in a few years.  
  
"When his wife was pregnant with her, Lord Voldemort surfaced for a little while when he was with her. He put a few dark spells on the child, one of the reasons I have this," Liz pulled down her robe revealing her birth mark, the one in the shape of the Dark Mark. "I too have an alter ego, one that kept me from getting into Rockwall. I've pulled a few stunts in my life that probably weren't the best. Unlike my father, however, I suppress myself more often than not, and when I felt him trying to use me one night a few months ago, I told my mom that no matter how much she loved my father, he had an evil side and would use me. So here's the thing: I will never allow my father to use me in any way. I told Professor Dumbledore the first time I talked to him that I would do anything to bring my father down because as much as I love him, he's evil. Now, Locke and I thought you should be the first to know as you're probably my... Voldemort's greatest enemy," Liz mumbled the counter curse. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think you're insane!" Harry started, as soon as his mouth was allowed to work again. "But I've learned to trust Dumbledore, so... You're supposed to be teaching me?" he said after a minute.  
  
"Oh, yeah. So I know we need to work on parselmouth, but I don't know what else, other then what you've been taught in class. I figured the best way would be for you to tell me what you know, or show me, and we'll go from there," Liz spit out after a moment. She had seriously been expecting him to run.  
  
"All right, I can avoid the imperius curse, and I have a wand made of the same stuff as Voldemort's, so it causes a web thingy. Oh, and I can also form a full grown Patronus," Harry started.  
  
"Let's go one thing at a time, and show me as much as you can. Want to start with the Patronus?"  
  
"Sure, Expecto Patronum!" A full grown stag appeared in front of him.  
  
"Ok. So, my patronus isn't even that good, so there's no point in me teaching you how to do that. I'll believe you with the web, since anyone's wand will do that, no offence. Let's see, Imperio!"  
  
As soon as she shouted this, Harry heard someone inside his head say, "Stand up."  
  
"Why?" he thought to himself. "Really, I am rather comfortable here, sitting in this nice chair."  
  
"Stand up!" the voice said again, this time a little more fierce.  
  
"No, no, I'm rather comfortable here, just sitting here. I don't think I will."  
  
"Stand up this moment!" the voice screamed.  
  
"NO!" Harry screamed back inside his head.  
  
"Stand up or that precious little mudblood friend of yours will die," the voice taunted, calming down considerably.  
  
"No she won't. I will remain sitting here, as I am quite comfortable, and you will get the bloody fuck out of my head!" Harry screamed inside, pushing as hard as he could at the invader and shoving the doors he had been taught to put up the previous year. Slowly, he opened his eyes. What he saw wasn't what he was expecting.  
  
In front of him sat an Elizabeth Riddle that he had never seen before. Her skin had lost any color it contained and the usual rosiness of her cheeks was gone. Her green eyes were now red, and slatted like a cat's. Her nose looked smaller on her face, more squashed, and her hair wasn't as brown any more, but instead a dirty blonde.  
  
"Professor, are you okay?" Harry asked, pulling out his wand.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" she shouted, pointing her own wand at him and throwing him back against the closed door. "You, filthy little boy! You horrible traitor! You should worship your lord, cower in fear of him, not fight him! He should not be fought! He is the righteous, the holy, and he shall reign!"  
  
"Professor Riddle, are you okay?" Harry repeated, looking up at the figure looming above him. He was pretty sure she wasn't okay, but he might as well try. Bloody hell, she really did look like Voldemort in this state.  
  
"You deserved to die, you filthy worm! Your parents deserve to be in the ground, as do anyone of their kind. Dirty traitors! They were right to die, before the real heat came on. You should have done that too!" she screamed as she spun her wand around her fingers, as if contemplating what to do with it.  
  
Without looking away from him, she aimed her wand at her bookshelf, sending the books that she had taken so long to put in neatly everywhere. Then, she turned her wands to the window and broke it, at the same time breaking the glass cage that was Locke's. Slowly, she did something that Voldemort had never done to Harry's knowledge, she backed away. Collapsing on the floor in front of her desk, she took a few deep breaths.  
  
"Harry, did I hurt you?" she asked after a few minutes of sitting there like that, her hands over her face.  
  
"No, you didn't. What happened, Professor?"  
  
"My alter-ego took over," she mumbled as she took her hands away from her face. Her eyes were back to being round and green. Color had returned to her face and her nose wasn't as flat anymore. "You know how my father's alter-ego is Voldemort? That is mine. I never thought to name her, I don't think I want to. She's gotten me into so much trouble over the years. I've burned down an entire neighborhood, nearly killed a man. She's the reason I didn't go to Rockwall, she's the reason I am who I am. I'm sorry for anything I said. I have no control and I usually mean none of it," she apologized as she twirled a strand of her brown hair around her finger.  
  
"Why?" Harry asked simply.  
  
"Why what? Why do I get like that?" Liz asked back. Seeing him nod, she said, "You know when I said my father used some dark magic on me when I was a fetus, this was the result. Whenever I get really mad or use intense dark magic I become her. If I have to manage the imperius curse on an average person, I can do it, but you fought back. You fought back more then I've ever felt before, and that drove me over the edge."  
  
"You've done the imperius curse before?"  
  
"Only when I'm in the evil state. The American Ministry of Magic has decided that it should be overlooked as technically I'm not at fault for doing it. What they don't know is that I have a bit of control. I can avoid hurting people I really like, hence why my office now looks like a mess. Reparo!" she shouted, pointing randomly around the room. The glass repaired itself and all the books flew back onto their shelves. "I'm still sorry."  
  
"So, Professor, how did you settle down? Every time I've seen your father he's in the other state."  
  
"My father is only happy when he's at home. It's the only time he's a happy Tom Riddle. You know what, don't call me Professor Riddle when we're in these sessions, or outside of the classroom, I guess. It seems weird, since you are older then me, and I hope a friend."  
  
"Alright, Liz, how did you overcome bad Liz?" Harry asked, going back to his former question.  
  
"I told myself to breath. Usually Mom or one of my other teachers would tell me to do it, and that seems to work faster, but by breathing I calm down. One of my teachers was a Buddhist monk. He taught me to meditate, mainly by breathing, and that calms me down enough that I can go back to being good Liz."  
  
"That's bloody brilliant."  
  
"Yup. Holy shit!" Liz said, looking down at her watch. "You were supposed to be back into your common room 15 minutes ago!"  
  
"Wait, isn't it your common room too?"  
  
"Yes, but I have to patrol tonight. Come on, I'll take you there so you won't get into any trouble by another teacher."  
  
"How did an heir of Salazar Slytherin get into Gryffindor anyway?" Harry asked as they were waiting for the stairs to change.  
  
"I apparently have more guts then ambition, although I would have gone well anywhere."  
  
"I wonder if the hat says that to everyone. That's pretty much what it said to me."  
  
"Eh, it's a talking hat, what does it know? Here's your stop. I'll see you tomorrow, is it?"  
  
"Yeah. Bye, Liz."  
  
"Adios, Harry!" Liz said as she walked down the hall, taking her wand out and muttering, "Lumos." It had been a most interesting evening.

* * *

"So how was it?" Hermione asked as soon as Harry walked into the common room. There were only a handful of people left sitting around, as it was after curfew, but Hermione and Ron were sitting at a small table doing homework.  
  
"Yeah, mate, what happened?" Ron added, looking up from his Transfiguration book.  
  
"Nothing, we just... She figured out what I knew and what I needed to learn," Harry said sitting down. "Hey, I need to tell you guys something," he motioned for them to lean in. "She's HIS daughter."  
  
"What do you mean by HIS?" Hermione questioned.  
  
"Voldemort's," Harry mumbled.  
  
"What?!" Both Ron and Hermione screamed.  
  
"Well, Tom Riddle, but still... Look, she's going to tell everyone else soon enough, but she said she thought I should know first," Harry shushed them.  
  
"She's You-Know-Who's daughter?" Ron asked, shocked. "Wait, you're okay with this?"  
  
"Well, she explained it to me. Apparently, when he's around her mum he's nice, I guess. It's not like she can really help it," Harry said, deciding not to tell them about the change in personality. If there was a secret he needed to keep from them, this was it. "It's not like you can help being Percy's brother, Ron."  
  
"No, but that's Percy. Not the Dark Lord!" Ron hissed.  
  
"Are you sure she's safe, Harry?" Hermione asked, giving Ron a look.  
  
"Yeah, it's not like she attacked me or anything," Harry lied. "She said she was only here to get away from her father, to keep him from using her."  
  
"Yeah, so she'll have a chance to become the Dark Lady, and take down Hogwarts from the inside!" Ron grumbled.  
  
"So we give her a chance. You can't help who your parents are, and if she really wants to be good, and Dumbledore trusts her, it's the least we can do," Hermione reasoned, ignoring Ron.  
  
"Okay," Harry said, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Alright," Hermione followed his suit.  
  
"Only if we watch her carefully!" Ron stated.  
  
"Don't worry, I will," Harry mumbled, thinking not only of what Ron was thinking but something entirely different.

* * *

_Alrighty people. Cheers, I hope you enjoyed it. Hopefully a bit of dark, yet not so PG-13 yet, hopefully soon, give it another month or 2 in the story, it won't take too long. R&R if you please. Gratsi. Toodles._


	7. Telling the School

_So, it's been over a week since my last update, and while I'm pretty certain that this chapter is crap, I'm sick of working on it and very few people read it, so here you go. Enjoy, and don't pinch me, those of you who do such things. As always review, and let me know what they should learn in class, because they need to learn stuff._

****

**The Reason **

**Ch. 7: Telling the School**

* * *

"Are you sure you want to inform the rest of the school, dear?" Professor McGonagall asked. She, Professor Dumbledore, and Liz were all standing in Dumbledore's office late Wednesday night discussing sharing Liz's identity.  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. In order for them to trust me, in order for them to trust what I teach them, they need to know who I am. It's not like it's that big of a deal, my father just happens to be the evilest man alive. Oh fuck it is a big deal," Liz grumbled as she dropped lower in her seat.  
  
"Liz, I would suggest watching your language around the students. You wouldn't want to encourage them," Dumbledore advised, meaning don't cuss around him. "They may take some convincing, but I applaud of your spunk. Would you like me to tell them when you're not around?"  
  
"No. If you do that, they'll think me a coward. I need to be in the room," Liz shook her head.  
  
"Alright, then I will tell them in the morning. For now, I suggest that you some rest. It would do you no good to be tired as well as stressed tomorrow," Dumbledore said. "Would you like some lemon drops?"  
  
"Albus, really, why do you offer these outrageous Muggle sweets?" McGonagall asked.  
  
"Actually, I'll take some. Thanks," Liz said, taking a few lemon drops out of the bowl and getting up to leave.  
  
"Dear, you definitely have courage. I can understand why you were placed in Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said, watching Liz turn and smile, then walk out the door. "Do you believe this is wise?"  
  
"Minerva, I knew that one day the truth would get out. I'm glad she's initiating it and not the rumor mill. It will be to her benefit."  
  
"Albus, you know best, even if I don't always agree with you."  
  
"Goodnight Minerva."  
  
"Goodnight."

* * *

Liz couldn't look up from her plate. Once again, if someone was so inclined to drop a pin in the great hall, you could have heard it. Professor Dumbledore stood at the podium overlooking the student body, who all were looking at the young teacher with a mixture of expressions on their faces, from wonder, to bewilderment, to disgust, to confusion among the Muggle born first years, to shock. Liz finally summoned up the courage within her to look up at them. Immediately, her eyes swept towards her new Gryffindor friends. Harry gave her a reassuring smile making her feel slightly better. Slowly, she took a breath and stood up. As she walked over to the podium, Dumbledore moved out of her way, deciding it would be best to let her say what she wanted.  
  
"I know that my father isn't the best man," she started, "but I'm not him. I never will be him, and I will never become anything like him. Despite what some of you may be thinking, I'm not here to spy or infiltrate, I'm here to teach. I could very easily have kept my parentage a secret, but I decided to tell you this now. You've all had at least one class with me up to this point, and so you know that I am capable of teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts. Let me teach you, and if you decide to hate me, let it be because I'm not your favorite teacher or person, but not who my father is." Liz let the echo of her last words die down before turning and walking out the side door of the Great Hall. They would come to their own conclusions about her in their own time, and by her walking out, it gave them some time to talk. As for her, she had to prepare for today's lesson, and it would do no good to procrastinate any longer.

* * *

"Professor Riddle," Ron interrupted, walking into Liz's office about 15 minutes before the first class of the day. "May I speak with you?"  
  
"Sure Mr. Weasley. Have a seat," Liz gestured, looking up from her lesson plan. "Now what's going on?"  
  
"You're... I had this all planned out in my head but now it just sounds stupid. I'll just go..."  
  
"No, just tell me. Please?"  
  
"Alright then, here it goes. I don't trust you. You come in here and you say you aren't your father, but you know all this shit about the dark arts, and then you keep saying you're not him over and over so much that, well, someone once told me that if someone keeps saying they're not something over and over, they probably are. Then, you're getting closer to Harry, your father's enemy, and don't think I wasn't able to tell since the moment you saw each other that you like each other, at least a little. He may trust you, Hermione may trust you, but I don't. I'll be watching you, and don't you dare try to hurt them. Yeah, that definitely sounds stupid. I guess I'll just be going then," with that, Ron stood up and began walking out the door.  
  
"Ron, wait. You're a good guy, something that I'm definitely not used to dealing with, but I'll try. I understand that you're worried. Chances are, if I was in the same position, I would be too, but I need you to trust me. It's the only way that what I'm teaching you will really sink in, look at what you learned from Professor Snape. Had you trusted him more when you were still taking your class, chances are you would have learnt more. And because of the trouble that you seem to get in, you really need to get the most out of this class, and if you trust me, trust what I'm teaching you, trust that I'm only trying to do good for you, then you'll get more out of it and it may just save your life. So, hate me if you will, which I really don't want you too because I need friends and you'd make a great friend, but please, trust that I'm not going to hurt you or your friends."  
  
"Why should I?"  
  
"I haven't tried anything yet. Ok, bad reason, but... Look at it this way, people aren't always like their parents. Look at half the people that follow my father, they were from good honest families, and yet they're horrible people. If it helps any, even though my father isn't the best man on the planet, my mother is. She's one of the world's greatest healers. People come to her for advice and healing and all that. I could have just as easily inherited her disposition as my father's."  
  
"Your mom is Alanna Sweet? I thought she was an Indian."  
  
"She was adopted by a Native American family. How do you know of her?"  
  
"My mom has her books. She uses them all the time when we get sick. Her potions taste horrible."  
  
"I grew up having to take them whenever I so much as sneezed. I know."  
  
"How did your parents ever get attracted to each other? They're so different."  
  
"Yup. There was an accident, they fell in love, opposites attract I guess. Speaking of opposites... I know this is going to sound terribly hypocritical of me, but if you like her, go for it. You'll resent it later if you don't."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"What, that your attracted to your best friend? The way you act, the way you protect her, the way you two look at each other. Just try it. She'll return your feelings."  
  
"Thanks. Maybe they do have a reason to like you."  
  
"You ever doubted it?" Liz smiled. "Do you really think he likes me?"  
  
"Yeah." With that, he walked out of her office and over to where his friends were sitting, waiting for class to start.

* * *

"Ms. Patil, please put away that orb. As fascinating as the future is, I'm certain it's not showing you what will happen in class today. Only I can show you that," Liz said as she walked out of her office and to the front of the class, following Ron's steps. "If everyone would stop comparing notes and pass your assignments to the front of the class, I would greatly appreciate it. Mr. Longbottom, would you care to share your symbol? From the looks of this paper it has to be interesting," Liz noted, looking down at the top paper in her hand, the one that just happened to be Neville's. It had the crest of an upside down tree with bats falling out of it drawn on it.  
  
"It was Eric Lanther's, the black duke of Whales during the 1300's. He thought it would be different and interesting, as well as remberable."  
  
"Nice job, Mr. Longbottom. It definitely is different. 5 points to Gryffindor. How about yours, Ms. Bulstrode?" Liz asked, flipping to the next one in the pile.  
  
"It's my family crest," the Slytherin girl in the back of the room said, looking up from talking to her friend.  
  
"I asked you to try to be creative, but it does serve purpose. You talking with your friends however doesn't. Please stop your chat," Liz reached into the middle of the pile and pulled out a paper, the mark on which she recognized almost at once. "Ms. Boot, would you care to share what yours is?"  
  
"It's a Native American symbol for health and the maintaining of sanctuary," the girl from Ravenclaw said.  
  
"Right you are. 5 points to Ravenclaw. This seems like a good place to start. As we learned in our last lesson, symbols can be good or bad, sometimes neutral, and have many uses. This symbol," Liz drew it on the board, "is useful in many places. The story behind the origin of it was that there was a young man who was on his spirit quest. He was being chased by a bear and ran into a cave, which may I add is not a good idea when being traced by an angry animal. So, imagine this guy's shock when he found that the bear, as soon as he entered the cave, had become as placid as a, I don't know, worm. After trying to figure out why this occurred, the man came across a carving in the rock, not human, completely accidental in the way the rock was formed, and that carving made everything safe and placid. Nothing could be touched or hurt when under the protection, and they couldn't even have bad thoughts. Certain magical symbols are formed in nature while others have been created through the human mind. Now, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, is there another class at this school that focuses on symbols?"  
  
"I don't know, ma'am," the Hufflepuff boy said.  
  
"Alright, is there anyone who does know?" Immediately Hermione's hand shot up. "Ms. Granger?"  
  
"Ancient Ruins."  
  
"Yes. For as long as humans have been around, they've used symbols, magical or not. Look at the cave drawings, and the hyroglyffics on the pyramids and such. This is a topic that we could spend years on, but we're not. So, does anyone know any other example of natural occurring symbols?"  
  
Almost an hour and 3 pages of notes later, Liz finally wound down. "Ok, that is about all we're going to cover on symbols. Based on that, and the fact that your hands are probably all cramped up by now, I'm going to ask if any of you have any questions, and you're going to raise your hands and ask me them. Then I will answer, and everyone will be happy. So, any questions?"  
  
"Why are you here?" Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw, asked.  
  
"I am here to enlighten those little minds of yours on how to attempt to defeat evil. For those of you who don't think that evil is wrong yet, I am here to teach you that as well, because the world would be a much nicer place if everyone wasn't evil."  
  
"How old are you?" someone asked.  
  
"15. I'll be 16 next month though," Liz added, sitting down on her desk.  
  
"Are you qualified to be our teacher?" someone else asked. Liz decided she needed to spend some time with the class roster.  
  
"Yes. I took the equivalent of your NEWTS last year, and aced them. Every government around the world considers me an of-age witch and the people who taught me were some of the most brilliant people in the wizarding world."  
  
"Then why didn't you go to Rockwall?"  
  
"I made a mistake when I found out who my father was and was in a dark place for a while. I got out of it and am now perfectly fine, but because of some of the things I did during that time they decided I was too much of a risk. My mother took it into her own hands and she and some friends of hers trained me to be a witch."  
  
"Have you met Voldemort?" Draco Malfoy sneered.  
  
"No, I haven't," Liz said bluntly. It was true. She had never come across her father's alter-ego, she had only spoken to Tom Riddle, her loving father.  
  
"Are you single?" a boy named Blaise Zambini asked.  
  
Liz couldn't help but laugh. He was exactly the type of boy she had dated for so long: a player who liked to party and always thought of getting in her pants. "Yes, but dating students would be highly unethical," Liz said, knowing exactly where this was going. "This isn't the type of questions I had in mind. Does anyone have any questions about symbols?"  
  
All at once, every hand in the class went down. 


	8. Una Besita

_So, I don't like fireworks, and since that's all that's on TV, I decided to spend some time writing. For my dear friend who said that the last chapter sounded a bit scripted, I told you it was crap. Anyway, I was in the middle of trying to make Liz less perfect when I realized what Hermione and Ron were doing, and they couldn't very well do it after Liz's thing, so this chapter is pure fluff, short but sweet, or at least I hope so. Please note I've never kissed a guy in my life, so go with it. Oh, and someone asked me if I spoke Italian a few chapters back, the answer is no, I speak Spanish, hence the title, which means a little kiss. I hope you enjoy it, I should update soon after this, please review._

_-Pentagon Merlin_****

* * *

**The Reason**

**Ch. 8- Una Besita**

* * *

Hermione and Ron sat at a small table in the Gryffindor common room. It was Saturday night and they were in the middle of their weekend homework. It was just the two of them as Harry was at the first Quiddich meeting of the season and Liz, who had taken to grading papers with them as they did homework, was off somewhere.  
  
"I went to talk to her a few days ago," Ron said after a while.  
  
"You went to talk to who?" Hermione asked, not looking up from the paper she was writing.  
  
"Liz. I went to tell her that I didn't trust her even if you guys did and that I'd be watching her."  
  
"Ron! You didn't!" Hermione groaned, looking up.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I did. We wound up in an interesting conversation about who her mother is."  
  
"So do you trust her now?" Hermione went back to her essay.  
  
"Not really, although her intentions may be a bit better. She did give me an interesting piece of advice though."  
  
"Oh, what was that?"  
  
Ron leaned across the table and did something that he had been wanting to do since before fourth year. He kissed Hermione. A slow, sweet kiss, lasting only a few seconds, and with no tongue, not like any of the kisses he had imagined in the past, hungry and speedy.  
  
"Wow," Hermione murmured as she dropped her pen. "Did Liz tell you to do that?"  
  
"No, she told me to tell you how I feel, and that's how I feel. Look, Hermione, I really like you-"  
  
"I like-"  
  
"Please don't interrupt me for a second. Its taken me 3 days to work up the courage to say this. I really like you, and I want to be more then friends with you. I know that you're probably just going to laugh in my face, but I need to tell you this. Ok, you can talk now."  
  
"Ron, I like you too."  
  
"Really? No laughter? Well, then, next question. Do you want to go out with me, like on the next Hogsmeade visit or something?"  
  
"Sure, I'd love to."  
  
"Ok, good." With that, Ron leaned in and kissed her again. He had never kissed a girl before, but he knew he wanted to do it again, preferably with Hermione.


	9. Outbreak

_I told you I would update soon. This chapter tells a bit about Liz's past, as well as showing a friendlier side of Snape. Before you send in your reviews, please note I have a reason for doing this, hence the title of the story, I have a reason for everything, or so it would seem. I hope you enjoy it and as always please review and give me ideas for what the DADA class should learn, or else that class could be very boring. Cheers._

_-Pentagon Merlin_

_PS- For those of you who have me on Author Alert and have already read this, I just changed the spelling of Galla to Golla, pronouned with a soft a like in car, and made it so that the reason she gives it a name is because Snape gets sick of calling it the alter-ego. _

* * *

**The Reason **

**Ch 9- Outbreak**

* * *

Midnight found a young dark haired girl sitting in the middle of a dark, deserted hallway, sick of herself. She was sick of trying to be perfect, sick of being friendly to everyone, sick of trying so desperately hard to be a good witch that she felt ready to burst. Elizabeth Adeline Riddle had felt this way several times in her life. The first was when she was 3, and to try to change it, she had changed her name from Elizabeth to Liz, at least where everyday was concerned. Then, when she was 7, when she started 2nd grade, she got sick of sharing and raising her hand and having people pick on her, so she rebelled and became a teacher's worst nightmare for the rest of the year. When she was 8, she found out who her father was, and along with the beginning of her magical training, she snapped. That was the first time her alter-ego came out, lasting for nearly a month and terrorizing her town all during the while. When Rockwall decided not to accept her when she was 11, she had snapped again, running away from home and becoming the alter-ego once more, for a few weeks anyway. That time, she put 5 people in the hospital, not strong enough to really hurt them yet, but coming close to almost killing them. Her mom's friend Donaghan Tremlett had brought her back to reality by being his cool self. Then, when she was 13 she snapped under the pressure of all her classes. The alter-ego didn't come out, but it might as well have. She started hanging out with bad people, doing drugs and alcohol, partying for long hours. Donaghan, or anyone else, wasn't able to help this time; she was on a destructive pattern. When she was 14 and her father came back, she had been pushed to the brink, almost slept with one of her many scum-bag boyfriends. She was in the middle of taking off his pants when she had realized that it wasn't her fault that her father was a jackass for leaving and then asking to come back, and sleeping with a guy really wasn't going to help. So she broke up with him then and there, and decided not to sleep with a guy for a while, even if she did insist on partying way more then anyone should.  
  
This time was different though. No matter how sick she felt, how self- destructive, she couldn't do anything. She didn't want to run away, her alter-ego would do no good popping up here, where she was trying to get even more control of it, and she certainly couldn't act against the teachers. She was the teacher, and it was only a week into the school year. Damn, why had she taken this job?  
  
"Shouldn't you be in bed young lady?" a slimy voice said from the corner. "Oh, it's you."  
  
"Professor Snape. Out for a midnight stroll I see," Liz bit back.  
  
"Yes, well, it is my job."  
  
"Really? So is being my father's loyal servant just something you do to make a little extra cash?"  
  
"How about you, Miss Riddle? Dumbledore seems to trust you, but then the old man is a bit of a fool when it comes to trusting people."  
  
"Well, he does seem to trust you, so shouldn't that be proof enough?"  
  
"Miss Riddle, what did I ever do to offend you?"  
  
"You work for that insane father of mine. You hate anyone who isn't lucky enough to be from an ancient line of wizards, and you keep calling me Miss."  
  
"Oh, is it Mrs.?"  
  
"No. It's Professor. I would appreciate it if you would be kind enough to address me with my proper title," Liz fumed.  
  
"Excuse me, PROFESSOR Riddle. Is there anything else you want?"  
  
"Yes, get out of my way!" Snape couldn't believe his eyes. Not only was Liz's hair lightning, but her eyes were becoming more and more red. Her nose was sinking into her face and becoming flat and her complexion was loosing it's glow.  
  
"What in the world?" Snape muttered.  
  
"Did you not hear me you sniveling little follower? Are you so unintelligent as to believe you'd get away with insulting me! You don't deserve to be a Death Eater; in fact perhaps we should..." Liz yelled, stepping within an inch of Snape.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" Snape muttered, pointing his wand at her. Immediately, her entire body went stiff, and she fell into Snape. He had half a mind to let her fall onto the stones below, but instead caught her and levitated her into a nearby classroom, placing her on a desk, and settling down to wait until she changed back.

* * *

"What did I say?" Liz asked as soon as Snape took the spell off her.  
  
"Random insults and how I wasn't intelligent enough to be a Death Eater," Snape said from where he was sitting in the corner.  
  
"Sorry," Liz whispered, thinking that she really needed to get control of herself.  
  
"What happened to you?"  
  
"My father decided when my mother was pregnant that it would be fun to make me his heir. What you just saw was the side affect. I'm sorry. I can't control anything I say or do, I just try to hurt as many people as possible."  
  
Snape sat quietly for a while. "Why does it happen?"  
  
"I get worked up over something or another. That little argument we had normally wouldn't do it, but I was stressed when you found me, and..." Liz trailed off. "You're not a loyal Death Eater, are you?" she said after a minute.  
  
"Why do you ask?" Snape asked, knowing that if he told her the wrong thing, and she was in with her father, he'd be dead.  
  
"Because I look like my father when I take on my alter-ego, anyone who either worships him or is terrified of him freaks. You didn't."  
  
"You know you catch more then the normal teenage girl. You should probably watch that."  
  
"One of my teachers was a spy. Enough nagging from a ten year old and he gave in. Taught me all he knew about noticing human behavior and such. It's really useful."  
  
"Does Dumbledore know?"  
  
"What, that my alter-ego is evil, yeah, he knows. Mom told him when I came here."  
  
"You know it needs a name. I'm assuming that you've gotten sick of calling it the "alter-ego" as I have and it hasn't even been 20 minutes."  
  
"My alter-ego needs a name?"  
  
"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because if it is a different personality, it deserves a name."  
  
"How about Helzen?"  
  
"Why Helzen?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Helzen is an odd name."  
  
"True. How about Gollum?"  
  
"How do you come up with these names?"  
  
"It's from Lord of the Rings. He's the bad side of the hobbit."  
  
"It would be appropriate, although it is Muggle, and male."  
  
"Ok... Golla?"  
  
"It is your name."  
  
"Golla it is then."  
  
"I have a lot of energy at 2 in the morning. Strange habit I got from clubbing."  
  
"You most certainly are odd."  
  
"I'll take that as a complement. Thank you."  
  
"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"  
  
"No, but I probably should go see Dumbledore. I wonder if he's sleeping."  
  
"Go to bed."  
  
"I don't take orders, thank you," Liz said, feeling way too energized.  
  
"That is not an order, it is a suggestion," Snape said, the harshness that had slowly left during their conversation coming back.  
  
"Fine. Night Professor," and with that, Liz strode out of the classroom and back to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She made a point to talk to Professor Dumbledore in the morning about getting help to keep the newly named Golla down.


	10. Smoke Alarms

_Wow, it's suprising how fast the summer has actually been going by, and how many times I had to write this chapter before I was sick enough of it to finally give up and post. So, here it is, Chapter 10, where the plot finally starts to develop a bit. I'm sorry it took so long, but I have a small case of writers block, that and I got just a wee bit addicted to Solitare, so that may have something to do with it. Please enjoy, and as always, review. -Pentagon Merlin_

* * *

**The Reason**

**Ch. 10: Smoke Alarms**

* * *

"You know, I found out some very interesting things from reading your descriptions of symbols, such as a clown is an evil symbol. However, Ms. Granger, you did not need to give me 5 feet of parchment discussing evil symbols throughout the ages. You're not going to be graded down for it, but please, please, please make my work easier and don't write such a long paper!" Liz said to the class. October was just starting and they had got through the rest of September without much incident. Despite the looks she'd been given by students walking by in the hallway after the announcement of her parentage, Liz had been accepted relatively well.  
  
Liz walked over to the chalkboard and grabbed a piece of chalk. She speedily wrote on the board "Muggle Monsters: Fantasy and Reality." "All right, here is our next section. Please note, I know that you've already gone into this during your third year, and I've discussed this subject with both Professor Lupin and Professor Hagrid, in order to grasp what you've learnt and will learn if you're taking Care of Magical Creatures," Liz stated, trying to not stumble through her words as she thought of what to say next. "So, I was going to cover werewolves in this section, but as you've already learnt that, we will be discussing pogrebins, dementors, and vampires. Mr. Macmillan, please stop staring at the back of Ms. Bones' head, I'm sure she doesn't appreciate the look your giving her, and if she does, ask her out after class. Now, I know you probably already have learnt this, but the people who decide what I teach you have decided that reviews are a good thing, so here we go.  
  
"A dark creature is not alive per say. They normally don't have full life cycles, such as being born, growing up, reproducing, and then growing old and dying. Instead, they're born fully grown, reproduce, and then die. They're only purpose in life is to cause evil, and being a predator does not make something evil. A predator would kill something, which would be sanctioned as evil if it weren't for the fact that the predator is killing it in order to eat, ergo survive. A dark creature would kill something and then leave it to rot, simply because they could. Often, dark creatures are created by spells gone wrong; however we don't know how most were created in the beginning. Because of these things, dark creatures are not considered animals.  
  
"The lines can blur sometimes when it comes to-"Liz was cut off by a loud blaring sound, and a voice echoing through the room.  
  
"Please walk quickly and quietly to the nearest exit. Please leave all doors open and vacate the building," the voice said, repeating itself over and over. As the students filed out into the hall they found smoke filling the halls below them and filtering out the windows that had thrown themselves open in attempts to let the smoke out. The pictures that lined the walls were hacking through the smoke and it was difficult to see 5 feet in front of yourself.  
  
"Pull your shirts up to cover your mouths and walk calmly to the exits!" Liz yelled, making sure all the sixth years that had decided to stay in Defense Against the Dark Arts were there and walking toward the exit, and not trying to pull some stunt as she had heard some tended to try. When they had reached the lawn in front of the school Liz counted again, and when she discovered that all her students were present, she looked down to see Locke curled up around her wrist.  
  
_"Does this remind you of any fire drills back home?"_ Locke hissed as soon as he caught her eyes on him.  
  
_"You had to bring that up, didn't you?"_ she hissed back. _"I didn't set off any smoke bombs here, and you know it."  
  
"I wasn't saying it was you. I was just suggesting that perhaps it was a student attempting to get out of class."  
_  
_"Nice try Locke. I have to go report as a teacher anyway. You want to tag along?"_  
  
_"Where else do I have to go?"_  
  
"Professor Riddle, are all your students accounted for?" Dumbledore asked when Liz came up on him.  
  
"Yes sir. They're all present. Is everyone else?" Liz responded.  
  
"Yes, it would appear so."  
  
"Does anyone know what caused it yet?" Professor Snape asked.  
  
"It would appear that the restricted section in the library was set aflame and one of the books had a defense mechanism of blowing up with a great deal of smoke," the head mistress informed them as she turned around from counting her students for a fifth time.  
  
"It was probably Peeves, sir," Mr. Filch said, watching his cat, Mrs. Norris, hiss at Liz's wrist. "What's wrong my sweet?"  
  
"She probably just doesn't like Locke," Liz offered, slipping the boomslang into a pocket in her robes, just in case. It wasn't Locke she was worried about, it was Mrs. Norris. "With all due respect to them, sir, couldn't it have been a student?"  
  
"No, all students have been accounted for, and no one seems to have been in the library, meaning the person had to be invisible, making it most likely a ghost," Professor McGonagall said in her uptight British voice.  
  
"Was anyone hurt?" Madam Pomfry asked, ever the nurse.  
  
"Despite the fact that the portraits now have smoke inhalation, everyone is fine. Madam Pinch, will we need to be replacing a large section of the library?" Dumbledore asked, a glint coming back into his eyes.  
  
"No, most of the books have damage shields on them and will be fine," the worried librarian said.  
  
"Sonorus." Dumbledore mumbled, pointing his wand at his throat. "ATTENTION STUDENTS," he boomed, "THERE HAS BEEN A SMALL FIRE IN THE LIBRARY. NO ONE WAS HURT, AND NOTHING BUT TIME HAS BEEN WASTED, SO IF YOU ALL WOULD BE SO KIND AS TO REPORT TO YOUR NEXT CLASS, IT WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED. VERY NICE JOB WITH THIS ALARM. THANK YOU. QUIETUS. There will be a staff meeting tonight at 9:30 in the Great Hall. Unless you have patrolling duty or a lesson with a student, you will be expected to be there and prompt. Please go teach," Dumbledore finished, watching them all go.  
  
As Liz headed back to her classroom, she realized that she was the one with the private lesson tonight. Harry had been unable to come to one of the lessons because it was the first quiddich practice of the season. Judging from their past sessions, she'd be able to only be about half an hour late to the meeting.

* * *

_"Hey, Harry,"_ Liz said in Parseltounge as soon as the messy haired boy walked into her office that evening.  
  
"If it isn't my favorite teacher... _You're rubbing off on me,"_ he replied, finally reaching full Parseltounge at the end of the sentence.  
  
_"Glad my language is rubbing off on you. How were the rest of your classes?"_  
  
_"Good, except I had Potions with Snape,"_ he said, this time fully in the language snakes use. _"And Ron and Hermione are really cozy during breaks, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Ooh, sorry about that. I guess it's my fault, what with the whole advising and all. Why do you and Snape hate each other so much?"_  
  
_"Oh, typical, he and my father didn't get along, and now he's taking it out on the son. Do you know_ why we had that alarm today?" Harry asked, reverting back to English as soon as Locke slithered onto the desk.  
  
"Very nice. It was apparently because someone lit a bunch of books in the restricted section on fire. One decided to start smoking profusely as soon as it lit. Theory is Peeves did it, but we have a meeting after this lesson to discuss it."  
  
"That's bloody odd. Peeves doesn't normally put stuff aflame."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Either way... Should we get started?" As Harry nodded, she continued, "Tonight I actually was wondering if you would mind helping me with a Patronus?"  
  
"Sure," Harry said happily. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A brilliant white stag sprung forth from his wand and looked around the room, then disappeared as Harry lowered his wand. "Basically the happy memory I use is from a point during third year when my godfather asked if I'd like to come live with him. He died last year, but the thought of leaving the Dursley's was really exciting."  
  
"Okay, so all you do is point and think of the happiest memory you have?"  
  
"No, you have to let the memory fill up every fiber of you being first. It has to be strong too. Why do you want to know?"  
  
"I have to teach it to y'all next week, and quite frankly every time I get in front of you guys I swear you'll burst out laughing."  
  
"We won't. Or at least most of us won't. I promise. You want to try?"  
  
"Brilliant memory?" Liz said as Harry laughed at her use of the British slang. She thought for a moment and then pointed her wand at the blank spot in the middle of the room. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A sparkly blue shield bigger then the one she normally cast appeared in the middle of the space and slowly turned into a large snake. "Figures it would be a snake," she mumbled as soon as it had vanished.  
  
"Here," Harry said handing her a piece of chocolate. "That was good. Bloody good. Anything else we need to work on tonight?"  
  
"Yeah, actually there is. A shield that's used to deflect most curses. The charm is forza protezione (protection force in Italian). You say it with a flick then a lift of your wand, and it will cast a lovely shield of light will surround you from all sides. Note though, it's extremely draining, that's why they don't normally teach it, and the un-forgivables can go straight through, as well as some other dark magic, but it will keep most things off for a decent amount of time. Got it?" Seeing Harry nod, she continued, "A wizard who is extremely capable will have heard of it before and can probably prevent it. Voldemort most definitely can, but the majority of his followers can't. Try it."  
  
She watched Harry try and fail. "Try again. You'd be really lucky to get it the first time." This time when he tried, a small circle of light surrounded him. "Good." Another dozen times and he was able to form an orb of light that surrounded both him and whatever was within three feet of him. "Very good, Harry. I'm impressed. I suggest bed, you should be pretty tired by now, and I have to get to my meeting. I'll see you at breakfast."

* * *

As they split up and Liz walked down to the Great Hall, Liz glanced at her watch. She had expected it to be ten at the latest, however the hour hand was edging toward 11, and the meeting was just wrapping up as she walked into the large room.  
  
"If only one book was destroyed, there is no reason to expel Peeves from the grounds. No other damage was done. Besides, we don't even know if it was him!" Madam Hooch said with great passion.  
  
"May I also add that we can not be sure that he did it," Firenze added, looking over at Liz, who was just pulling up a seat at the table.  
  
"The book that was destroyed was Dark Enchantments, Deadly Languages, and Curses of the Old. It is not a replaceable book," Madam Pinch argued.  
  
"Professor Riddle, it would appear as though you have the urge to say something," Dumbledore stated.  
  
"As no one was seen setting the books aflame, it would be suggested that the person was invisible. This we already know, as well as it was not a student as they were all accounted for, but Peeves is one for simple pranks, such as dropping dung bombs on students, not the destruction of priceless literature," she said, glad she had discussed it with Harry earlier.  
  
"Are you suggesting it was another ghost?" Professor Snape droned.  
  
"It's possible," Liz replied.  
  
"You're too young to see what's really going on," Professor Vector stated, and Liz had always liked her too.  
  
"Perhaps it is through the eyes of the young that this matter will be reviled. However I do believe we will all have eyes that look far older then they are if we don't adjourn this soon. We all do have class in the morning. Good night," and with that note from Dumbledore, the teachers turned and left, leaving an almost empty hall.  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that you know exactly how this is going to end?" Liz asked the old professor.  
  
"Perhaps it's the beard. It does give me a very knowledgable look," Dumbledore answered. With that, Liz turned and left the great hall, leaving the old man by himself. "She really is her father's daughter," he mumbled to himself before going to bed himself. 


	11. False Accusations

_A/N- So I've finally gotten around to writing another chapter. Thank you for waiting so long, I've been kinda busy, what with crazy teachers who give way to much homework during summer (I'm still not done) and a severe case of writers block. Please note it's late and I can't spell so any spelling problems are my fault. R&R. As always, Enjoy.  
-Pentagon Merlin_

**

* * *

The Reason**

**Ch. 11- False Accusations**

"You are my advanced class, meaning you get to make advanced potions. This one is called the Bussara Potion. It allows you to reach higher levels of concentration and enlightenment. Please note, however that it is restricted in this school, so you will not be allowed to use it in any other circumstance other then this class. Students caught, buying, selling, using, or making this potion will suffer grave consequences. The instructions are on the board, please begin," Snape growled.

Over two weeks had passed since the fire in the restricted section, and as with all schools, the news had passed like a teenage girl's crush: quickly. They were sitting in a double lesson of Advanced Potions on a Thursday afternoon, whishing for it to be over, five minutes seeming like five hours.

"Mr. Potter, please be sure to put the oak sap in before the elephant's toe. I know this could be very tricky for you. Very good Mr. Zambini. Ms. Patil, it is five stirs to the right then three to the left, not the other way around," Snape criticized as he walked up and down the isles. "Ms. Granger, do you have a question?"

"Yes, Professor. Is it supposed to look gray like this?" Hermione asked, looking down at the slop in her cauldron and thinking something must be wrong.

"No, it's supposed to be iridescent! Of course it's supposed to be gray," Malfoy inserted from where he was sitting two rows back.

"That's quite enough, Mr. Malfoy," Snape growled. "Yes, it is supposed to be that gray. What's that sound?"

Sure enough, coming from the back room where Professor Snape kept his private stores was a clattering. With a flourish of his robes, he turned and stormed to the back and turned the door knob. Or at least tried to. It was locked.

He quickly took out his wand and whispered the set of charms it took to open the locks. Snape threw open the door, expecting to find someone, or at least something. Instead, there was nothing, except for a few empty spots where random things were missing. A look of puzzlement quickly swept over his face, but was erased quickly.

Turning around, he found the whole class staring at him. "Get back to work!" he snapped, returning on the outside to the harsh teacher. On the inside, though, he was as puzzled as anyone would be.

* * *

When the bell rang nearly two hours later, he headed from the dungeons up to the third floor, where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were located.

"Alright, you little brat, what did you take them for?" he snapped as he walked into the room as the last of the students filed out.

"Take what?" Professor Riddle asked, picking up an eraser and slowly beginning to clean the board.

"You know very well what I'm talking about!"

"Actually, no I don't. I've been up here all day. It kinda cuts me off from the school. So what are you accusing me of taking?"

"Potion ingredients from my private stores. Those little friends you've made have taken things from them before, perhaps they've talked you into doing it now."

"Why would I go into your private stores for my friends?" Liz asked, attempting to stay calm through all of this. If Galla popped up here and now, just minutes before her next class, she'd have a monster on her hands, both literally and metaphorically.

"Well, two of them were in my class at the time and the other one doesn't have the ability, so it had to be you."

"Have you considered that I was teaching my own class the entire time you were being burglarized? And what makes you think I would steal from a fellow teacher anyway?" Liz could feel her eyes beginning to narrow and turn red. When she looked down at her hand it was turning pale faster then she could help. She quickly changed her breathing patterns and state of mind to that of meditation, walking over and closing the door.

"There are ways to get out of your classroom, and you are the spawn of evil."

Liz couldn't help but laugh at this. It was becoming harder and harder to focus her mind on not being evil, what with Snape making these comments about her being so. "Perhaps I was born into it, but I didn't choose to become a Death Eater. Now, Professor, if you would excuse me, I have to calm down before my next class comes in. Wouldn't want to scare the first years, now would we?"

"I'll be watching you," Snape said as he walked to the door.

"Out of curiosity, what ingredients were taken?"

Snape quickly listed the goods that were taken. Liz knew that if you combined all of them, they would create one potion, she just couldn't remember which one.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," Liz said, half her brain lost in the clouds and the other half attempting to remember which potion they created.


End file.
